


Locked Out

by QueenoftheHobbits



Series: Soft Thighs Series [83]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, overweight reader, plus size reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-22 23:27:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9629744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenoftheHobbits/pseuds/QueenoftheHobbits
Summary: Sometimes life just doesn’t go your way.





	

Your day just wasn’t going well. Firstly you had run late to work after oversleeping, then you’d dropped coffee down yourself and been forced to walk around covered in coffee all day, after that some assholes called out crude things to you on your walk home, some of those things were sexual and degrading, others were demeaning about your weight and it just wasn’t good...the icing on the cake really was the fact that in your haste to get to work that morning you must have left your key in your apartment...and now you had absolutely no way of getting inside after a long day when all you wanted to do was get into something comfortable and watch some terrible TV. 

Your forehead thumped against the wood of your apartment door and you sighed for a moment before reaching for your phone. The locksmith wouldn’t come out tonight, you knew that much. It was late and he wasn’t the type of person that really wanted to unlock people’s doors for them. He was a grumpy fellow...not that you could blame them, opening people’s doors for them wasn’t the most exciting job in the world. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi, it’s Y/N from apartment 8 I’ve locked myself out...” It was embarrassing enough to admit that you’d locked yourself out of your own apartment and you didn’t want to think about how embarrassing it might be to just sit all night in the corridor in your coffee stained work clothes. 

“I can’t come out tonight. I’ll come out first thing tomorrow.” It was the grumpy tone that said he didn’t even want to come out tomorrow to let you back in... 

“Fine, thank you...” It wasn’t fine and you only said thank you because it was courteous to say so even when you weren’t happy with what was going on. If you were being honest you were too tired to be angry. 

“He’s not coming to morning right?” You’re too tired to jump at the voice either. You know who it is. Bucky Barnes, your neighbour, had a very familiar voice at this point. 

When you turned around he was leaning against his open door frame. He looked so warm and soft and comfortable in his lounging about clothes and you longed to be in some comfortable lounge pants and a baggy t-shirt. “Yeah...” You wrapped your arms around your soft waist and wondered if he was going to be nice and invite you in or if you were really going to be relegated to sleeping in the corridor all night. 

“You want to come in? I have some clothes you can change into...you look like you’ve had a rough day, doll.” You liked your neighbour before. He was handsome, pleasant to talk to, and always offered help if you needed it...and he had a old fashioned charm to him. Always holding doors, always calling you by little names that somehow never came across as derogatory, always giving you that charming smile (and it was charming) whenever he saw you. But, you had never felt more affection for your neighbour than in that moment at the offer of his hospitality. You’d had such a bad day that you had to stop yourself from crying at his offer. 

Instead you nodded and thanked him, letting him lead you into his own apartment that was a mirror of yours in shape and the opposite in style. It fit Bucky’s personality oddly enough, not too modern, not too old fashioned, not too cluttered, but not sparse or unfriendly either. 

“I’ll just get you some clothes...” You walk around looking at the little things hanging on his walls or sat on table sides. Photos of him and who you presume were his friends, and old knickknacks. 

You turn away from your prying when you hear him moving back into the room, he has a pile of clothes in his arms and he almost awkwardly passes them to you, “Here-” You can understand the discomfort, you’re his neighbour and these were his clothes, “They might be a bit long but...” They would do. As long as they fit and as long as they were comfortable that was all that mattered. “Thank you, Bucky” 

They were comfortable, the trousers were a little long, and the shirt sleeves too, but they fit and they were so soft and comfortable...and despite all rational sense you enjoyed that they smelled like your neighbour. Your own clothes were quickly folded and put to one side, before you walked back out to join your neighbour. 

Bucky was sat on the sofa when you found him, watching some reality TV show about weddings and looking awfully interested. You gingerly sat down at the other end of the sofa from him and started watching too. It was one of those shows that somehow managed to get you heavily invested in the lives of those on it and that was enjoyable despite the content being seemingly ridiculous. Why these women decided to let their future husband’s pick their wedding dress for them you didn’t know...half the men seemed to want something they liked rather than what their partner would like. 

“Oh my god, Jason! She doesn’t like lace!” What made it all the more interesting was Bucky’s investment, he seemed genuinely annoyed that half the men didn’t seem to actually care that their partners had already mentioned at least once to them what they did and didn’t like. 

“That is the ugliest dress i’ve ever seen...” It put you at ease enough to scoot closer to him and make your own comments. 

Before you knew it you were leaning against his legs, your own thick thighs stretched across the sofa and your head pillowed against his chest. These men were actually ridiculous. Why didn’t they just listen! 

“God, i’d hate to marry someone who didn’t even care about what dress I wanted...like they don’t even pretend like their thinking about their partners!” 

“I’d never do that, y’know” 


End file.
